When you hear success stories people only mention the lowest of the bottoms and the highest of the highs, nobody ever talks about the median of the process. the stage where everything is starting to get good but you still have that string holding you onto the bad, and you really want to cut it but have to heal it or else it is and will always be there like a visible ugly scar. I have been doing and feeling great but I have an attachment to one thing and been ignoring it until recently and it didn’t make me feel free or liberated, or on top of the world, it simply made me thankful.
I have a curse of being able to make myself forget events in my life. I do not know how I do it but I can, I been doing it since my childhood. It is something I do to protect my own sanity and allow myself to get out of my own way. michigan never felt like home to me, and Georgia was nothing but a bigger void that opened up a bunch of doors I wanted and left closed for a reason. My teenage years my dad and stepmom put me in therapy to address what they thought was anger for my mom not being around, when I said multiple times I was never angry, I was just always alone, never felt like I had anybody but myself. Every real issue or problem I had going on I would deal with it on my own tie by myself because I don’t like bothering people with my issues or for them to feel like I am complaining to complain, so I keep my issues to myself.
When I was 16 I didn’t picture myself making it to 21, and looking back almost 21 to 16 year old me, I wish I would’ve hidden my journals better for starters and secondly that I would stop trying to force a life on myself that simply was not meant for me. It was when I was watching Law and Order SVU weeks ago I snapped, I thought back to December and everything that was going on and how nobody bothered to ask me one and one why did I leave, they all took the excuses I gave them as my word didn’t even challenge it. For the first time in my life when I needed just one person to challenge me and question was I being honest with myself nobody did.
In the mist of my snapping, I went to a box that I had hidden. Something about me makes me keep everything I believe to hold importance. And within this box, I had a shirt, necklace, party wristband and a trident gum wrapper. I took the box and left. I made sure to use a different route to get out the house so my grandma knew I wasn’t leaving in the middle night and I drove. I usually hate the dark and being alone in the dark but that night I felt comfort. I drove to a bridge I knew and bought myself and the box to the bridge and stared at the water. I debated on throwing the box as a whole, each thing one by one, I even debated on jumping in because I felt like it was a dream and there was no way in hell this was me and my life at this moment.
I ended up throwing the box in as a whole. I just threw it far as I could and watch it his the water. I expected it to float because when it hit the water it was still visible then about a minute later it just dropped. And when it dropped instead of feeling happy as I should have felt, I felt beyond defeated. I never addressed the items and the meaning, I never shared with anybody why I kept them in the box, and I never told anybody about the box. It was all apart of my own issue, one I figured I could and did deal with myself. I sat in my car by the bridge for some time until I realized it was about 5 and my grandma would be getting up soon and it was going to be hella skeptical if I wasn’t home when she left for work. So I went back home and got in my bed and all I could think about was the box, and if anybody would ever find it.
The idea of somebody finding the items kept me up for nights and I wrote about each item in my journal as a way to get it off my mind, and I figured this was something I have to share because maybe it will leave my mind if I am open publicly with people about the items.
The box: I bought it my first week in my first ever apartment, I liked the turtles on it, hence a childhood nickname and it was cute and only a dollar curiosity of big lots. It was so innocent and childlike I had to have it, and I used it as a memory box for my first year at Western.
The shirt: My go-to party shirt, there are thousands of pics in me in this shirt, it was a gift from my friend. It was the shirt I had worn when I went to my first college party, my go-to senior year shirt for special event days, spring semester of course, and it was the shirt I was wearing when I met the first guy I had ever really liked and been with.
The Necklace: It was the first real piece of jewelry I bought for myself, thanks to my credit card. It was a heart a small one, nothing extravagant it was supposed to be for me and I would give it to my daughter so on and so forth, it meant a lot to me.
The party wristband: just was a party I will never forget
The trident gum wrapper: It had a boys number on it, he actually gave me it in our student center one evening, I was passing by to get to the library and instead of asking me for my number he gave me his on this small little gum wrapper, and I was so impressed and intrigued by him because of it.
Now you are probably like why the hell would I throw out things with such value to me and the answer is because they didn’t hold the same meaning they did to me. when I would see the box I didn’t think back to my childhood the necklace terrified me to death because the thought of having a daughter made time stand still, the party wristband was just a reminder of me going to events with people I knew I shouldn’t be around but still did, and the gum wrapper taunted me by the fact nice things do come in life, but always with a price.
It has been weeks since I tossed that box, and months since I thought back to December and packing my life up. One of my friends told me she thought I was weak because they felt me leaving Kalamazoo was me running from a city I didn’t like, and not just sticking it out till the end. That they were tougher than me because they stayed where they felt unhappy and miserable and I dipped. When in reality I was just doing what I did my whole life, I was running to a place where I could find somebody to listen to me somebody to understand I wasn’t running from problems I needed to start addressing them but I needed help to do it.
I knew to be home was going to make me relax, and eventually admit to myself what I was running from, and what I needed to fix. And I was right, the longer I was left alone at home, the more I opened up with myself and began to admit I had to address my issues. being alone would allowed me to continue to press on with being fake okay, id probably still be in a major I did to simply make money, at a school I simply went to keep my family’s approvement up of me still being a college student, but the one thing I knew that would have happened with me staying alone in my fake perfect world was I was going to eventually burn out and I wouldn’t be able to save my damn self.
Saturday I told my Grandma how I was wishing bad on people and how I knew it was wrong. I wanted some people to feel how they made me feel and I wanted them to feel it times 100, and how me feeling that made me angry and upset me because I knew I shouldn’t be wishing bad on people, but what do you do when people do you wrong? And after I opened up to her about feeling this way, and thinking back to me tossing the box, I thought how through it all and the wished and thoughts, I still somehow managed to get the hell out of December.
I am nowhere near where I want to be, but I am nowhere near where I was in December. I do not live in the fantasy world where everything is fine and peachy. I tell people how I feel, how they make me feel and express my feelings. Yet I still get into anti-social moods and will push people away when they get to close because I can never fully read and understand their motive. I am in the process of building up a wall but adding a door and windows. I have a lot of work to do on myself and figure out without having people around me because they do not know me as of now. I do not even fully know me as of now, and I need to protect that about myself. I am figuring things out for myself by myself, and its hell of an experience. Some days I feel on top of the world and others I feel like it is against me.
The middle is not a fun place, but it is a needed place, embrace all the heaven and hell it throws your way.